By the time Teri and Jasmine had managed to help Angus into his cottage and settled him in a recliner facing the large bay window, his sobbing had settled into occasional hiccups and he accepted a glass of Islay Mist Jasmine had poured him from a bottle she found in the small, surprisingly neat, kitchen: "pass me that jar of dildock, would you?" he asked and Teri gave it to him and the old cleric massaged some into the hairless area of his head: "it's the best relief," he sighed and Teri was glad that he had stopped venting his paranoia or – what was it he had denied being? - oh, yes, a proditomaniac, which seemed to be much the same, but he then said: "you probably wonder why I came here, eh? to get some peace and quiet, away from the Danes and their ranting, but d'you know what? this place, Bowden, has been taken over by that Ranulph Ochan'toshan and his mob, they practically run the place from his aerie, it's on the slope leading up to the Eildons and he's the Chairman of the Community Council, Him! he's corrupted the whole place and apparently plans to stand for the Scottish Borders Council at the next election! he's the one leading the conspiracy against me, all because I have the Journal of Sir Parlane MacFarlane that I discovered in the Ha Ha near Lesmahagow; he wants me to surrender it to him, so that he can return it to MacFarlane, they're cheek and jowl that pair, them and Elginbrod the Edinburgh lawyer, Devils the whole lot of them, I found that out the hard way – oh, don't misjudge me, girls, I wasn't always so cynical, I've been gulled and conned in my time and your dear Aunts, Daphne, Maude, May and Cristo saved me more than once, them and my dear old friend Father Mungo; it was he who discovered that Sheepshank, that's the name of my little croft, was for sale and told me about it, suggested that it would be a perfect retreat for me – alas, little did we know that The Ring of Gold had infiltrated the village! but I keep my eyes and ears open, it's surprising how much an old dodderer can glean from the passing conversations of others who assume that at my age we're all deaf and blind, Mungo usually comes over at weekends and we stagger about, like a pair of bookends, each keeping the other upright, you'd be amazed at what secrets are cast before us like pearls before swine, just because our combined age is the best part of two hundred – I'm pleased to have seen you and thank you heartily for your kindness, but don't let me hold you back: I suspect that you have a good reason for coming to Bowden but no need to explain yourselves, Mum's the Word!" and he mimed zipping his lips together: "pass me that remote, if you would, I've put a few bob on an outsider in the 2.30 at Wincanton and don't want to miss it, you can see yourselves out, and do, please, call in any time you are passing, and say the same to your Aunts, I haven't seen them since I moved in here and Mungo doesn't tell me much Melrose news, cheeriebye!" and he waved them towards the door.